


Worth A Thousand Words

by fangirl_squee



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28451901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: It is customary for Fire Lords to commission a portrait to celebrate the first year of their reign. Zuko attempts to follow tradition, Sokka attempts to help.
Relationships: Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Worth A Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madelinestarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/gifts).



> for max, as a (slightly late) holiday gift

Zuko stood at the window of the palace, the welcome feeling of a late spring breeze helping him to shake off the last remains of sleep. He leant on the windowsill, looking out - the position of this window was one of the highest in the palace, and one of the few that could see far enough over the walls to give him a glimpse of daily life.

He’d come to this window often as a child. It had been one of his mother’s favourite spots.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Zuko turned to see Mai approaching him from the thin staircase that led to this part of the tower. A smile twitched at the edge of her lips, something that had begun to happen more and more since the Avatar’s victory over his father. Zuko allowed himself to smile back, extending a hand to draw her towards him. She slid easily into his arms, letting Zuko turn them both back towards the window. 

Outside the palace walls the city was beginning to wake, carriages passing quickly through the streets and people moving to and fro. In the palace courtyard, decorations were beginning to be strung up, reminding Zuko of why he’d sought solace in the tower in the first place. He sighed.

Mai hummed. “They were looking for you downstairs. The next round of artists are here.”

Zuko suppressed a groan. He felt Mai suppress a laugh.

“You were the one who didn’t just want to go with one of the traditional artisans,” said Mai.

“I know, I know, I have brought this torture on myself,” said Zuko, “That doesn’t mean I don’t find it to be insufferable.”

“It’s not all bad news,” said Mai, “The others should arrive soon.”

Zuko couldn’t help the smile that moved across his face. “It will be good to see them.”

“It will,” agreed Mai.

She leant back in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Warmth spread out from the contact, settling in Zuko’s chest. He allowed himself to remain there for a few minutes more, looking out at the city. They so rarely got time like this together, especially not when a ceremony was coming up, even one that felt as frivolous as celebrating a portrait.

“It will be the one they hang in the great hall, I suppose,” said Mai, “to join the Fire Lords of the past.”

“Still,” said Zuko, “it feels like a lot of fuss over a painting.”

Mai hummed. They’d been having some version of this conversation for months, ever since he’d floated the idea of having the portrait done by someone other than the traditionally-used selection of artisans. It probably would have already been over with if he’d picked one of those, but still… If this was supposed to be the dawn of a new era in the Fire Nation then it should be, right down to the annoying, frivolous details.

And so he’d carved out a few hours of his precious time, meeting the various artists who thought enough of themselves to put themselves forth for such a task, carefully turning the pages of endless sketchbooks and portfolios while the artists fidgeted nervously in front of him as though he would challenge them to an Agni Kai if he found their work lacking. Mostly the work they brought to show him was… fine. They had obviously chosen pieces that most closely resembled the Fire Lord portraiture of the past, or that borrowed heavily from traditional Fire Nation art. It was hard to describe why exactly that disappointed him so.

Perhaps, he thought, as he turned what felt like the thousandth page depicting some general or other, he was just looking for someone who would not paint him so similarly to his father.

Mai ducked her head in as the latest artist was being ushered out, a smile hovering at the edge of her expression.

“One more for you today,” said Mai.

Zuko groaned. “I thought that  _ was _ the last one.”

“Almost,” said Mai, “But this artist is a late arrival.”

“If they’re late they can wait until tomorrow,” grumbled Zuko.

“If  _ that’s _ how you feel maybe I will,” said a voice from the hallway.

Zuko stood up sharply, his breath catching in his throat as the door opened. Sokka stepped into the room, rolls of parchment under his arm and a paintbrush tucked behind his ear. Zuko moved towards him before his mind had caught up to his feet, pulling Sokka into a tight hug. Distantly, he was aware of the quiet sound of the door sliding closed again as Mai slipped out of the room. Zuko pulled back, still keeping his hands on the other man’s shoulders.

“We didn’t expect you for another month!” said Zuko.

“I didn’t want to wait for the others to get a move on,” said Sokka, “Besides, I heard you were auditioning artists and I thought, y’know, why not try out!”

“Try out?” said Zuko, “For what?”

“For the portrait!” said Sokka. He stepped back to lay out the rolls of parchment on the table next to them.

Sokka’s art style was… exactly as Zuko remembered it.

“I… still have a lot of artists to speak to,” said Zuko slowly. “I don’t think it would be fair to just choose you without, uh, speaking to them.”

“But I’m on the shortlist, right?”

Zuko looked down at one of the parchments. The writing at the bottom announced that it was a portrait of Toph, but it looked more like a badgerfrog wear a hat. He pressed his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh at the thought of a painting in Sokka’s style joining the line of stiff Fire Lord portraits.The idea was tempting, drawing the sharp line between the past and the future he wanted to build and also… he liked the idea of passing something Sokka had made each day, of every visitor to the palace seeing it.

He looked down at Sokka’s parchments again. Then again, if he deviated from tradition  _ that  _ much he might well have a riot on his hands from some of the more conservative ministers.

“Perhaps I…” Zuko carefully considered his words. “Perhaps I could have a private portrait and a public one.”

Sokka crossed his arms. “If I’m not on the list you can just say so.”

“It’s not that,” said Zuko, “I… I have to consider what other people expect of a Fire Lord now, but I- I would very much like a portrait from you.”

Sokka’s cheeks flushed. “Okay, I’ll- I’ll wait until you find your official one. I wouldn’t want to get too much of a head start on them.”

“Right,” said Zuko, “We wouldn’t want them to be too influenced by your style.”

He caught glimpses of Sokka during the rest of the day - a flash of Water Tribe blue here, an echo of his laughter from another room there - but meetings kept him away from Sokka until the next morning, when he was preparing to greet the next round of artists.

Much like the day before, he hadn’t expected to see Sokka at all, but the man was already waiting for him when he entered the room. He stood as Zuko entered, his hands fluttering for a moment before he clasped them behind his back.

“I thought I could offer my artistic expertise on your choice,” said Sokka, “If, uh, is that allowed?”

“It is if I say it is,” said Zuko, “Honestly I could use the company.”

The first few candidates were much like all the others, if only from further away from the capital than the previous group. Sokka made faces as he looked over their portfolios, making Zuko bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.

The last candidate for the day as a thin, reedy man, his travel-worn clothing marking him as being from the Earth Kingdom. His portfolio was also slightly more unique - past the first few Fire Nation style portraits were simple black ink sketches of people’s faces, once from the front and once from the side, their faces animated in grins and snarls, more alive that the stiff portraits Zuko had been looking through for the past few weeks.

“Most of my previous work has been in... wanted posters, your highness” said the man.

Zuko glanced at Sokka and then back down at the sketches. He thoughts of their own posters, years ago, something warm uncurling in his chest at the memory. Sokka caught his eye, grinning. _Perhaps,_ thought Zuko, _he was_ _thinking of the same posters._

“How soon can you start?” said Zuko.

Immediately, it turned out. Luckily the man was talented enough to paint him and Mai at separate times, so at least they could waste different sets of hours while they held still for the portrait. The man seemed to work quickly at least, not bothering Zuko with attempts at conversation and not doing any more than raising an eyebrow when Sokka set up an easel next to him, making a show of laying out his own art supplies.

Sokka didn’t try to force him into a conversation either, but it seemed to happen anyway. They had only been apart for a few months but so much had happened, big and small. Even with the letters they’d exchanged, it felt good to hear Sokka’s laugh aloud again.

He heard a lot of it as the weeks passed. Sokka insisted on accompanying him to as many places as possible in order to “study his subject”, sleepily joining Zuko on his morning walks through the grounds and joining them for meals.

“I apologise for his intrusion,” Zuko said to Mai, as they ready for bed one night.

“It’s not an intrusion.” She paused, glancing at him. “It’s good to see you happy.”

“You make me happy,” said Zuko.

“I know.” She leant towards him, cupping his cheek in her hand. “But you are allowed to have more than one thing that makes you happy.”

Everyone else seemed to arrive at once, Ty Lee leading a crowd of performers for the celebration, and the Avatar leading the rest. Once their group got closer, it was easier to recognise them as the people Zuko remembered. Aang’s grin was just as bright as ever as he pulled Zuko into a hug.

The unveiling of the portrait came quickly after that. Zuko’s eyes slid from his father's portrait to his own, feeling pleased with the changes. In the portrait, Mai stood behind him, mimicking the position of the other queens in the other portraits that lined the walls, but unlike her fingertips rested gently on his shoulder. The version of him in the portrait covered her hand with his own, a point of warm connection between them rather than cold positioning. 

His hand flexed, the phantom sensation on his fingertips of that very motion. So often during those early days of his rule, Mai had come into his study and put her hand on his shoulder to pull him from his work, and he would reach up, just as the version of him in the portrait was doing, to take her hand.

Zuko felt the artist’s eyes on him, waiting. He cleared his throat.

“I like it,” said Zuko.

The artist nodded, seemingly understanding Zuko’s plain words for what they were. Zuko made sure that he was given a position of honour at the feast afterwards, to ensure that the Fire Lord’s pleasure was known to all.

It was a wonderful night. They ate, and talked, and danced, and avoided going to bed despite the late hour. Mai smiled at him, kissing him on the cheek before she stepped away to dance with Ty Lee. Zuko watched as they twirled around the floor, moving in and out of the other dancers with ease.

“Hey,” said Sokka.

Zuko looked up. Sokka fidgeted, clasping his hands behind his back.

“What is it?”

“I- my portrait’s done too,” said Sokka, “if you want to see it.”

“Sure,” said Zuko, rising to his feet, “Lead the way.”

He followed Sokka through the halls, into his private study. Mai must have helped him with this, Zuko realised sharply - one of her favourite scarves had been used to cover Sokka’s painting where it rested on the easel. 

_ You’re allowed to have more than one thing that makes you happy _ .

Zuko felt his cheeks flush.

Sokka cleared his throat. “Presenting the private portrait of Fire Lord Zuko!”

He pulled off the scarf dramatically, revealing the painting underneath. It wasn’t Zuko alone but all of them, all their friends, with a green field under them, a blue sky above, and what Zuko assumed was meant to be torches on either side of their group, Aang hovered slightly in the air. All the elements, and all of them, together.

Sokka fidgeted with the scarf. "I know it's not a fancy as your  _ grand portrait _ , but-"

"I love it," said Zuko, "I can't really put it up with my other one, but…"

He glanced around, stepping to take down one of the landscape paintings on the wall above his desk. Carefully, he picked up Sokka's painting and hung it on the wall in its place.

"There," said Zuko, "I'll probably see this one more often honestly."

Sokka's cheeks went pink. "Oh. Cool. Uh-"

He darted up, pressing a kiss to Zuko's cheek, as fast as lightning and just as shocking.

Then, like lightning, he was gone.

It took a moment before Zuko could even make himself move, raising a hand to touch his cheek, feeling the phantom warmth of Sokka’s lips. He let out a slow breath.

_ You’re allowed to have more than one thing that makes you happy _ .

Maybe Mai was right. Maybe he was allowed.

He walked quickly through the palace, heading for Sokka’s rooms. He didn’t bother to knock as he entered, startling Sokka and making him drop the bundle of shirts he was apparently trying to stuff in his bag.

“The other’s won’t be leaving until tomorrow,” said Zuko slowly.

“I thought you might appreciate me getting a head start,” said Sokka, “given, uh-”

He gestured widely at Zuko.

"Because of me?" said Zuko, "Sokka if I have offended you- I really did like the portrait you did-"

Sokka made a choked sound. “No, I mean- because of the- because of what I just did… you know…”

Zuko felt his face flush. “I, uh, I didn't mind that.”

Sokka huffed a breath, turning back to his bag. “Well, if you didn’t  _ mind _ .”

Zuko threw his hands up. “Fine, here-”

He stepped forward, crowding Sokka against the bed and ducking his head to press a light kiss to Sokka’s cheek.

Sokka’s face flushed red, his eyes going wide. He raised a hand to his cheek, the movement so like Zuko’s own that it pulled at something in Zuko’s chest.

“There, see”, said Zuko, aware that his voice was several octaves higher than normal. He cleared his throat. “It's- I didn't  _ mind  _ Sokka.”

“Oh,” said Sokka, after a moment. “Well I - I guess I didn't mind either.” He paused. “If you wanted to do it again I guess I wouldn't mind either. If you wanted.”

Zuko  _ did  _ want. He was allowed to, after all.

The angle of this kiss was different, landing on the corner of Sokka's lips. Sokka tilted his head, leaning forward again before Zuko could think better of it, their lips meeting in earnest. Warm flooded Zuko's body, the fire in his veins making him pull Sokka closer. Sokka followed his movements like the flow of a river around a mountain, easy against him. They stayed pressed together for a long moment, only pulling back to draw breath.

“I really do like it you know,” said Zuko, “The portrait.”

“Yeah, I'm starting to get that,” said Sokka, “and, why wouldn't you, it's great.”

Zuko considered it a moment before he looked back to Sokka, remembering the joined spindly hands on the portrait, the way their smiles were too big for their faces. He did feel that way, sometimes, when all of them were together.

"It is," said Zuko, "you've really captured something."

Sokka beamed, and Zuko can't help but duck his head to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
